Chapter Three - Roasting Little Debbie Cakes Underneath the OceanA Chapter by iNSOMniAC[Language Warning] Chapter three of my book "One Way Out." You do not have my permission to use my work, so please do not use it. Thank you.Chapter Three Roasting Little Debbie Cakes Underneath the Ocean Sam pulled over to the side of the road. It was almost midnight now, and he claimed that his eyes wouldn’t stay open much longer. Well, we made a deal, so that’s fine. Seven hours of riding was pretty tough for the both of us, and we still had at least eleven more to go. “We’ll make a campfire outside,” he said, standing up from his seat. “Weird. I didn’t know we were going camping.” Sam grunted. “There aren’t any marshmallows or sausages this time.” “Aw, come on, Sam! Surely you have something for us to roast.” “You brought the luggage, not me. I didn’t even know I was going to a different state when I got in the bus this morning.” “We’re in the middle of a depression. Who wouldn’t want to leave the state?” “Watch it, thief.” Once again, we laughed. Sam was a pretty great guy if you got to know him. I stood up from my seat and almost fell back down as soon as I did it. My legs felt like pudding. “You alright back there?” I struggled up the aisle. “I’m fine,” I said. Sam narrowed his eyes at me, but nodded and got off of the bus. I followed close behind. The air was utterly bitter. It was so cold out that it felt blistering, and the atmosphere pierced our skin like fractured knives. I lifted my arms up and hugged myself, trying to trounce the icy heat. Sam turned his head around, “I’m gonna go fetch some firewood. You stay here and make sure nothing rogue comes and hijacks our only way out of this hell.” I gave the old man a thumbs up and pressed my back against the bus. Despite the freezing bite of the air, it was a pretty peaceful night. The stars glittered like a kindergartener's work of art, and the moon held onto them like they were children. What do the stars feel like? Could you feel them dancing in the palm of your hand if you manage to catch them? I bet they'd be warm. Warm and fragile. No - cold, brilliant, and jittery. On the winter days when the snow gently falls, do some snowflakes freeze to the colors of the sky? Is that were stars come from? If that is so, then what of the moon? Did a small child throw a snowball at the heavens, and the sky decided to catch it for him? Did the sky keep it as a symbol for a new friend, one that it could never reach? Now I sit back, glancing up at the stars, remembering a conversation I once had. I laid down in the grass, my eyes on the sky above us. "Wow..." He blinked and looked at me. "Hmm?" "I just realized how blue the sky is." He nodded. There was a pause before I spoke again. "Do you think the sky feels lonely on cloudless days?" "Yeah, but I know that the clouds will return." I glanced at him, "How?" Smiling, he pointed to a patch of clouds. "You see those clouds, how they're always straying from the sky... but then they come back later on? That's how I know. Where else would the clouds go? The sky is their only friend." "As beautiful and amazing as they are, they only have each other?" He nodded. "I don't know if I should be glad or depressed." "Yeah. Me either." There was a rustling sound a few feet away from the bus. Alarmed, I glanced over at the brush where the sound originated. Sam came out of the darkness. “Wanna help?” I shrugged. “I’m busy guarding our only way out of hell.” Sam grinned and shook his head. He dropped the sticks and twigs that he’d found in front of him. “You seemed a little distant,” he said as he sat down. “I’m always distant.” “Well, more distant than usual.” He started to build a pit out of the firewood. “Just thinking.” “About?” “The stars, the moon, the sky… everything celestial, really.” Sam nodded. “Ah. What about them?” “I was wondering if they ever felt lonely.” He laughed. “S**t, girl. They’re just groups of gases with bright asses.” “They mean much more to me than some shiny a*s, Sam.” He lifted his head curiously. I shrugged and glanced back up at the sky. “What do the stars mean to you, then?” “Each star represents a year I am to spend with the love of my life.” I pointed to one, “Each star is very different, even though they look the same. They hold different moments, feelings, and people.” “And what of the sun?” I blushed and looked away. “It’s the biggest, most important year of our lives together.” Sam chuckled and shook his head. “You got quite a story going on there, TB.” “I’m not writing it alone.” “That’s the best part.” I nodded, smiling slightly. I had a question, but I didn’t want to hurt Sam. I took a risk. “Sam?” “Yes’um?” I looked back at him, hesitant. I couldn’t tell if it was okay to ask him about Lydia or not. Sam paused his work and glanced up at me. “Hmm?” “Nothing, never mind.” “You can ask me anything you need to. I don’t care. The human mind is our only source of existence, so if you have a question, I will try to fulfill your mind’s needs.” I nodded, still unconvinced. He was going to get suspicious if I didn’t ask him a question, so I had no other choice. “How do I remind you of Lydia?” Sam didn’t seem affected by the subject. “You two think alike. When she saw the stars, she saw the people of the world. She once told me, ‘look! Look at the stars! The heavens are but a place where everyone lives in harmony. It is our future.’” I blinked. That was a beautiful thought. Sam continued, “She looked at the sky and saw an ocean above us all, getting ready to break through its glass and drown us at any moment.” “She was afraid of a skyfall?” “Not afraid.” He leaned closer, “Excited.” I grinned. I really wish I got the chance to meet her. The people on this Earth didn’t realize that the only way to understand the world was to look at it in their very own eyes, and yet, Lydia did. “And the ocean?” “She saw it as the tears of tomorrow. Even after the sky took them away, they still appeared the next day. Tears - sadness - will never be completely taken away from this world. The seas and the skies were proof. They were to her, anyway.” “Did you trust in her theories?” “Of course. I believe in everything she said. She was the most honest person I’ve known, and even the flaws in her truth were flawless.” He sighed, turning back to the fire pit. “I just wish more people got to see that.” He didn’t seem too torn about it, but I could tell the conservation was over. It was that silence that we shared. We had to let our minds rest. I decided to sit down beside him and help tend the fire. It wasn’t even a source of heat yet - I guess I was too big of a distraction. It took us a few minutes before there was a spark. We watched it fall carelessly into the pit. We helped it grow, as if it were a lost child that we had found on our travels. The single tear of amber turned into a whole entire ocean’s worth of flaming sorrow in the matter of moments. I stood up and glanced through the bus’ windows, looking for the time. Midnight. I turned my head around, “Ready for your story?” Sam shook his head. Confused, I stayed quiet. “I have something better in mind.” Still, I waited. What am I supposed to say? “Do you like music, TB?” “Of course.” “What’s your favorite song?” “Um… I don’t know. I have a lot of them.” “Name one.” “So Long Soldier, by All Time Low.” “Sing it for me.” I tensed, “What?” “Sing it. Sing it loud. I want to hear Lydia singing again.” I must’ve been like her twin or something if he thought I sounded like her. “On one condition.” “And what’s that?” I held a finger up, as if to say, "give me a minute." I ran back into the bus and took a box of tiny dessert cakes from my luggage-stash. When I came back out, the flaming tears were licking the incarcerated ocean in the sky. I grinned, “Perfect.” “What?” “Do you have any other sticks?” Sam looked around on the ground and picked up a twig. “What are you-” “Just trust me.” I took the stick and sat down beside him. Laying the stick down, I opened the box of cakes and took one out. Sam watched, still perplexed. I took the twig and shoved it through the cake’s center, then handed it over to Sam. He took it and blinked. “There’s your marshmallow,” I said with a smile. Sam laughed and shook his head. “You’re a strange one, you know that?” I shrugged and placed a marshmallow on another stick. We shared the pit of tears, rolling our marshmallows around above sorrow’s reach. We didn’t want the cakes to taste like pure sadness, but we couldn’t get rid of the despondency in this world, so we might as well embrace it. I lifted my marshmallow stick, “To Lydia!” Sam laughed, raising his marshmallow in the night sky, “Let her stories rage on eternally within the ocean above us and the heavens below!” “I will sing with the voice that we share; and I shall sing a song of farewell!” Sam grinned, looking back at me. I was having trouble expressing two emotions at once, but he was doing it perfectly. His eyes reflected the colors of despair and happiness at the same time. He nodded. That night, the ocean rippled in the sky, tapping on the glass that kept it away from its true place. It splashed against the corners of the atmosphere and sang along with us. The stars sailed on the waves like tiny pirates riding through a perfect storm. The sunlight peeked over the horizon - just a little - and shined through the waves, reaching up, up, and touching its beloved moon, which it hungered to reach. And that night, when I saw the sun's comforting love reach the moon, I sang to the waving heavens above, and I sang of a farewell, so that the stars would not have to say a goodbye after all. * * * We woke up around ten in the morning. Basically, we got a solid nine hours of rest. We had spent an hour at the pit of tears, waving our marshmallows and singing like drunken men. We were sure that Lydia heard us singing, because the sky lit up with the colors of the sea every time our voices rose above the sounds of the night. Anyway, the box of cakes was now empty, and my stomach was killing me. Sam didn’t seem too happy about it, either. I bet he took five trips to the bushes before I even opened my eyes. I woke up to the sounds of his retching. I covered my ears and rolled to my other side. “Dude, gross!” He replied with a rather painful sounding splash noise. So maybe the roasted Debbie cakes weren’t the best idea, but we got a campfire like no other. Another splash. I think I stuck my finger so far up my ears that I poked my brain. “You’re injuring my only source of existence!” “I don’t give a crap! My stomach is injuring my only source of-” Yet another splash. I stood up and walked into the bus, trying to avoid the sound. I don’t think vomit is supposed to be that color. Inside the bus, I sorted out a few pieces of my luggage. We still had an estimated eleven hours to go before we reached Austin, so it was okay to make myself comfortable. I made a small bed on a fairly sanitary seat, which was one row behind my original old-blue-man-chin. Yeah. The ground was much more comfortable than that piece of s**t. Anyway, I only packed some of the essentials - a pillow, a blanket, some bathroom necessities, a few packets of food, a notebook, pencils, and my wallet. Still, it was a lot to carry. I arranged the rest of my food on the seat across from my new bed, and then put my notebook where I originally sat. I decided to hold onto the money for safe keeping. Sam came onto the bus, not looking much better from before. He wiped his wet, chapped lips. “You ready to hit the road again?” “Are you?” He paused a moment, swiveling. “Yeah, yeah... yeah. I’m good.” I arched an eyebrow at him. Surely enough, he stumbled off of the bus to take another trip to the bushes. I really felt bad for them right now. I never would’ve thought about it, but I think all plants have nightmares. These bushes will sleep at night, only to remember an old man hovering over them, watering them with his insides. Okay, that sounded much more gruesome than I intended it to be. Still. It was gross. Sam returned. He didn’t even look like he was sick anymore. “Alright, now I’m good,” he announced, sitting down behind the wheel. “You ready?” “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Sam tipped his hat, as he did when we first met. Strange. I felt like I’ve been his best friend for a year now, but we haven’t even known each other for a day. “Okay then! Let’s get you to Texas!” He started the bus’ engine and pulled back onto the road, sticking his head out the window like a dog and screaming, “Whooooo!” © 2015 iNSOMniACAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on January 20, 2015 Last Updated on February 28, 2015 Tags: Chapter Three, The Pain Bearer, One Way Out, Roasting Little Debbie Cakes Und AuthoriNSOMniACWatching my rear-view mirror, and what it is reflecting: it's an image that's broken.AboutI hope you don't mind if I start over. ------------------------------------------------------ "That night, the ocean rippled in the sky, tapping on the glass that kept it away from its true pl.. more..Writing
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